I’ve been at a loss for a long time, no pun intended.
I want to write, to express how I’m doing. It’s why I created this blog. But the truth is, I don’t know how I’m doing. It changes by the moment.
Every time I feel like I want to share, to write, the words can’t stumble out. Or I’ve done a flip flop on what I was feeling when I first thought about sitting down to write.
So tonight, I am pushing myself to just write.
See, I can ride a wave of energy, positivity, and productivity. Where I feel like I’m embracing this new life and all it entails. That I’m good. This month, it lasted for quite a while.
I can tell you all the strides I’ve made, all the things I’ve done that I am proud of, how amazed I am at my children and how they power me through. How much I want for us to be okay. More than okay. To be happy. To live with joy and love in our hearts. I really do mean it.
Or do I?
Then the crash comes. How can I live with that joy and happiness knowing that we’ve lost so much? Just like that, the adrenaline fades and I get reminded that this is not a sprint. This new life, it is a marathon, and I am only at the beginning with a lifetime left to live without him.
It feels like I am living in a lie. Pretending to be fine and that I’ve got things under control. All the positivity fades and I feel like I am living in a nightmare, trapped in some alternate universe waiting to wake up and return to what was.
It’s a suffocating feeling. A lonely feeling. A pain that digs really, really deep and makes me wonder how I’ve gotten through these last ten months. And how I will keep going.
The problem with moving forward in grief is that each step forward is another step away from what was. What feels like progress and happiness comes with a complimentary side of excruciating pain and guilt.
The rational side of me recognizes that I have to learn to live with this duality. In reality, what choice do I have? So I ask myself – What would I say to my best friend if they were in my shoes? How would I support them if I were looking in from the outside? And so I push forward, just a little bit more, trying to give myself some love and compassion.
Will I ever really accept the fact that life will never be the same again? That is a hard question to think about. From everything I’ve read and learned as I study and network in grief….I know that the answer is no. No matter where life takes me, I will always carry my grief with me. And much like a shadow, some days it will loom large and dark and other days, at the right angle, it will barely be noticeable. But it will always be there.